


Tiny Dancer (hold me closer)

by mandsangelfox



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Gen, Kyle being a good dude, Kyle is the real MVP, Nostalgia, Short & Sweet, one sided kyliz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-12 00:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20554880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandsangelfox/pseuds/mandsangelfox
Summary: Sometimes you didn’t need music to find a rhythm, sometimes all it took was the right partner.





	Tiny Dancer (hold me closer)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [@michaeltrevinos](https://michaelstrevinos.tumblr.com) in response to this ask: "Gimme Kyle and Liz slow dancing in the diner after hours to a song they danced to when they were teens. I NEED it."
> 
> Beta'ed as always by the lovely [estel-willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow/pseuds/estel_willow)

After resurfacing a few days after his encounter with Jesse Manes and the not so friendly side of his standard issue firearm it, had become very clear that he hadn’t been the only casualty of that freak rainstorm. People were dead. No, not people. Max Evans. Max Evans was “dead” because he’d gone and resurrected Rosa, successfully, which was a total mindfuck. She’d been dead for ten years so God only knew what had possessed Max to go all extra-terrestrial Lord and Saviour on them but he had and now there was the fallout to worry about.

The main fallout in question being the emotional toll his death would take on the people left behind. 

And of all the people affected by his death, Kyle was the most worried about Liz.

Sure, they hadn’t been a couple for a very long time but you didn’t just stop giving a shit about somebody you’d once been completely head-over-heels in love with. Kyle knew better than anyone that if he wanted to, he could brush off what he and Liz had as some stupid highschool thing but he knew better than that. It said something about how well he still knew her despite the time and distance that had separated them because, though it was late, he knew she’d be up and keeping herself busy at the Crashdown.

Distraction was key; it was what Liz did to keep herself from thinking about all the things she couldn’t control and Kyle knew her well enough to know that she probably hadn’t slept since she’d found Rosa and Max. That had to have been hard enough but add lying to her dad about everything that was going on and he knew she’d be a wreck. He might not be able to bring Max back from the dead but he could be a good friend and take her mind off things.

Kyle jogged across the street and as expected the door to the Crashdown was unlocked and as the bell tinkled an exasperated, clearly exhausted voice called out, “We’re closed.”

“Yeah, but since when has that ever stopped me?” He asked, smirk firmly in place.

And there she was in all her Crashdown glory which did in fact involve the antennas despite her constant protests. “Kyle,” his name left her lips breathlessly and before he had any chance to say anything she’d basically flung herself at him, arms tight and hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt. “Oh thank God. I was- I hadn’t heard anything and I just-”

Kyle was a little taken aback but then Liz Ortecho had always been something of a force to be reckoned, moving through life like a hurricane with single-minded focus and determination. Thankfully, he’d gotten pretty good at navigating it and he merely curled his arms around her as he gave her a firm reassuring squeeze. “I’m good, promise.” He wasn’t, but she didn’t need to know that. Not right now. Not when there were more important things to worry about. 

Liz pulled back and regarded him skeptically before she pushed out a breath, nodding her head slightly. “Okay, that’s good.” Then, as if catching herself in a moment of weakness and vulnerability that she wasn’t comfortable with, she quickly pulled back to smooth her hands over her apron. “So, uh, what brings you by?”

“Please,” Kyle challenged with a distinct _’do not give me that bullshit’_ expression that he pulled off so well, “I know what happened with Max and I know you well enough to know that you’d be beating yourself up and so I’m here to make sure you take care of yourself.”

“I’m not-”

Kyle just reached out to press the tip of his index finger against her mouth and arched both eyebrows which was enough to silence her. No lying. Not tonight. “Okay, fine,” Liz bit out with a small accepting smile. “What did you have in mind?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Kyle grinned as he slipped his leather jacket off and rested it over the nearby booth before he moved over to the nearby jukebox. “Now... I’m pretty sure this thing still has the song,” he muttered more to himself than to Liz, “and you’ll know it when you hear it.”

Despite everything going on Liz let out a small disbelieving laugh as one Kyle Valenti, doggedly determined, sought through the selection of songs until one in particular began to fill the Crashdown and he wasn’t wrong, she recognised it immediately. “Kyle, that’s the song-”

“That we used to dance when we were kids,” Kyle finished with a smile as he peeled away from the jukebox to trail over to her, catching her hands in his own before giving her a slight tug. As she gave a further soft chuckle Kyle slid an arm around her waist to cradle her against his chest, a hand also trailing down to curl his fingers loosely around her wrist. A brief squeeze was given before he very gently coaxed her hand up to rest against his chest. 

Over his heart. 

The heart whose beat was strong and steady beneath her palm.

“Kyle, I don’t dance in this town anymore, you know that.”

“Shh,” Kyle said softly as he just eased them into a slow sway that they were both familiar with and he could feel her fighting it but he countered this by dropping a soft affectionate kiss to her hair. “Maybe tonight you can, promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“Kyle-” Liz protested softly though, admittedly, she wasn’t fighting that seriously if the way her shoulders relaxed and her head came to rest against his chest was any indication. Kyle felt his heart clench in response to the pain he could _feel_ radiating off her. “It’s okay,” Kyle assured her. “I got you, Liz.” And he did, he wasn’t about to let go, not when it was clear that she _needed_ him and if he could be there for her then he was going to be. 

He felt her exhale as if she’d finally been given permission to grieve and to not be strong and Kyle tightened his arm around her, offering silent support in addition to a stroll down memory lane, thumb brushing over the inside of her wrist and lips resting against her temple. 

And that’s how they remained, wrapped around one another, until the jukebox fell silent and, even when there was no music left to dance to, Kyle didn’t let go and neither did Liz. 

Sometimes you didn’t need music to find a rhythm, sometimes all it took was the right partner.


End file.
